


No Habla Lithuanian

by nahtaivel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm so sorry, M/M, Not Beta Read, You probably shouldn't read this, how do people do it, i'm not creative, it's short thank god, so it's gonna suck, sorry - Freeform, this is practically my first fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3774685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahtaivel/pseuds/nahtaivel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is lost in a Lithuanian airport. Awkwardness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Habla Lithuanian

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning, I'm better at writing poems than fanfiction. Forgive me if this sucks.

He was lost. Lost in a foreign airport.

It’s all Sam’s fault. Meeting up at the baggage carousel? He couldn’t read a single sign in this whole damn airport, and his dictionary had print the perfect size for ants.

**← BAGAŽAS**   
**→ TUALETAS**

“Bag-azas?” Dean mutters, hastily flipping through the tiny pages. He finally finds it, and sighs. So far, nothing has gone terribly wrong.

**bagažas:**  
 _baggage NOUN_  
1.  
personal belongings packed in suitcases for traveling; luggage.  
 _synonyms:_ luggage, suitcases, cases, bags

He follows the sign, almost running. Of course, he isn’t looking where he’s going, and practically slams into another guy, consequently knocking all his things out of his hands. God damn it.  
The man is knocked onto the ground, and he tries to scrabble back onto his feet, his mouth moving but no sound coming out.

“Ah f—I’m so sorry—I mean,” the guy pants, and looks up at Dean. He has some crazy sex-hair going on, combined with ocean blue eyes. “Aš taip atsiprašau, pone!”  
Dean gives him a long, confused look, and realizes he’s in a foreign airport. So he tries to be friendly and offer his hand. All the guy does is stare at it.

God fucking damn it.

Finally, the guy takes his hand and pulls himself up. Dean tries to casually dust himself off, and blue-eyes is coughing and muttering things.

“So, wha—“

"Tau viskas gerai?"

"Um, no habla..."

“You speak English. Oh God, I’m making a fool out of myself.” the man shakes his head, gathering his books and stuffing them back into his bag.

“Nah, it’s alright, dude. It’s my fault anyway. I’m in a rush. Uh, am I going the right way for baggage? Also, I'm Dean."

“Hello, Dean. I'm Castiel. And, yes, you are. Just go straight.” he points, and smiles.

 

Dean is only staring at his interesting book choices. Demonology. Witchcraft. And on top of that, a Holy Bible.

Dean starts to inch away. "Thanks. God bless?" he blurts.

The man, Castiel, gives him a searching look. "Oh," it dawns on him. "Same to you, I suppose." He is annoyingly oblivious to Dean's discomfort. This guy didn't seem to understand personal space, either. "So, where are you from?"

"'M kinda a traveler, but Kansas."

"Oh. I'm Canadian. British Columbia." Dean was almost about to make a maple syrup, or possibly a moose joke, until Sam showed up.

"Dude, really? I've been waiting for you for 30 minutes, and you're having a nice chat?" Cas looks nervous at the sudden confrontation, but he attempts a pacifying smile. Dean only shrugs.

"Sorry, I bumped into him."

"For half and hour? Charlie and I have been waiting this whole time." Dean shrugs again, and Sam gives him a venomous Bitchface™. 

"Okay, okay, let's go, princess," he mutters. "Sorry, Cas. Maybe we'll bump into each other some other time."

Cas seems disappointed, but he quickly brightens.

"Do you want my number?" he asks innocently.

That bitch.  
Before he can control himself, he winks.

"Hell, why not?"

**Author's Note:**

> Was it completely terrible? I need input.


End file.
